


The Dangers of Watching Films

by Sarah_Black



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Shameless Smut, boner angst, famous Sansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stannis watches a film with his daughter. One of the actresses is very familiar... and <i>very</i> pretty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dangers of Watching Films

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatCat/gifts).



> Just a little something I threw together while working on a much longer canon fic. Hopefully I'll manage to finish that soon, too.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** GRRM owns it, not me.

It all started one night when Stannis was stuck spending ‘quality father-daughter time’ with Shireen because Selyse was at some charity event where she would undoubtedly wriggle her way out of donating more than she absolutely had to. He kept explaining that they were quite wealthy and that it was unseemly for her to be so frugal, but she was frustratingly stubborn about the issue. For refusing to come with her, he was relegated to dealing with their daughter.

The routine for those rare occasions when he was stuck with Shireen without anyone else around, was to feed her take-out, put on a film for her to watch, and try to get some work done on his laptop. Tonight she chose a film about teenage girls forming a band and becoming world famous. Stannis doubted any of the actresses had an ounce of musical talent as it was always the same with this idiotic films; they hired pretty girls that would look good on the posters and try to hide the fact that they couldn’t sing by using copious amounts of Autotune.

Stannis ground his teeth and wondered if Shireen would notice if he surreptitiously plugged up his ears. But just as he was considering it, the first musical number of the film started. The voice that came pouring out of his top-of-the-line speakers (bought at a discount after Selyse had embarrassingly demanded one because of a ‘scuff mark’ he was sure she had imagined) was nothing short of _angelic._ The lyrics were brainless drivel, but _gods..._

He looked up from his laptop to see an oddly familiar redhead on the screen. She looked about fourteen or fifteen years old - though the makeup she was wearing might have tricked a less trained eye into thinking she were sixteen or seventeen - and she was stunning from top to bottom. Not a man who was normally taken in by a woman’s beauty - his brother’s wife had rather put him off pretty women - he was unused to the way his heart was speeding up and his palms perspiring at the sight of her. 

Her eyes were the clearest light blue he had ever seen, her hair was thick and beautifully red, her skin was pale smooth porcelain, and she had a slender coltish figure -- long legs and curves that were just budding; hinting at the woman she would become.

Why was she so familiar?

“Who is that?” he asked his daughter before he could censor himself.

“Sansa Stark! Don’t you know anything?” his daughter replied with a hugely exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Stark. Of course.

He must have seen the girl at Robert’s Christmas parties over the years. Ned usually showed up with his brood. Had she been there at last year’s event? Stannis felt sure he would have noticed her. It was not every day one saw girls that looked like that. Or perhaps she didn’t really look quite so mesmerising in real life? Sometimes people looked much better on camera than they did off it. And there were tricks that could be performed with lights and cosmetics and even computers in post production…

That had to be it.

Stannis put the Stark girl out of his mind and continued to work on a report Robert had dumped on him at the last minute. The deadline was tomorrow and Robert had barely done any work on it.

***

The next time Stannis was home alone and in need of some mindless entertainment, he ended up flicking through the available films on Netflix in a bored, disinterested manner; almost at the point of just selecting one at random.

But then he saw her face.

Sansa Stark, starring in another piece of bubblegum fluff about a young girl who meets her twin sister at summer camp and switches places with her in an attempt to get their parents back together. He selected the film without a second thought and settled in to watch it.

She was even more gorgeous in this film than the girl band one, and there were _two_ of her. He sat through the entire film, absolutely riveted by the girl and completely unable to tear his eyes away. He felt as if a spell had been cast over him, and by the time the credits were rolling he realised his mouth was open.

He snapped it shut and shook his head to clear it. What was wrong with him? The girl was not more than three or four years older than his daughter! He had come perilously close to _drooling._

 _Seven hells, am I a paedophile?_ he thought in a panic, cold sweat breaking out all over his skin.

A hasty bout of googling led him to believe that he was not quite that disturbed. _As a medical diagnosis, specific criteria for paedophilia extend the cut-off point for pre-pubescence to age thirteen._ He was certain that Sansa Stark was older than that. And it weren’t her _childish_ attributes that he felt drawn to.

No, according to the internet he was just your run-of-the-mill dirty old man, lusting after a teenager.

It was horribly wrong. No matter how cold his marriage was there was nothing that justified this _perversion._

He would never watch any of her films again. 

… until she was at least eighteen.

***

His resolve lasted for perhaps two months. He was watching Shireen again, and of course she wanted to watch the new Sansa Stark film.

“She’s my favourite actress! And everyone at school is so jealous that I actually get to meet her every year at Uncle Robert’s party.”

His daughter really was quite old enough to watch a film without supervision, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the TV lounge. He wanted to see Sansa on the screen -- his heart was pounding at the very idea.

This film was a modern take on a fairy tale, and Stannis was sucked in from the second Sansa appeared on the screen. He almost barked at Shireen when she paused it to go to the bathroom, but managed to restrain himself.

Near the end of the film, when Sansa’s Cinderella transformation had taken place, Stannis found himself dealing with an horrendously inappropriate erection. Sansa looked completely grown up in the tight gown she had been sheathed in, her hair and her makeup making her appear glamorous and refined. He was also starting to worry that he might develop some kind of foot fetish after all those shots of her dainty little feet encased in glass slippers.

“Dad, are you okay?” Shireen asked, giving him an exasperated look.

“Fine,” he bit out, annoyed that she was taking his attention away from the screen, and annoyed that he was annoyed about it. Hopefully Shireen was too young to figure out why he had a throw pillow on his lap.

“... if you say so,” she said sceptically, “but you were grinding your teeth again, just so you know.”

“Watch the film,” he growled, “or you can go straight to bed.”

Shireen didn’t say another word and focused her attention back on the screen.

By the end of the movie he didn’t need the throw pillow anymore, and was able to go about the rest of his night as he usually would. But watching the film had broken his resolve, and he knew that soon he’d be watching every single film of Sansa Stark’s he could find like a dirty old pervert.

***

For the next three years Stannis found an excuse not to go to his brother’s Christmas party. He sent Selyse with Shireen, because Shireen would be heartbroken if she didn’t get to go and stare at Sansa Stark, but Stannis couldn’t bring himself to go and do the same. He had quite surpassed his daughter in his obsession with Sansa. Sadly, he could not express it like she could, by wallpapering his room with posters depicting the teen idol. He had to be careful not to betray his embarrassing fixation in any way. He did not know what his wife would do if she caught on, and he did not want to find out.

This year there would be no excuses. Robert had put his foot down, and there was no getting out of it.

_... and Sansa was eighteen now._

Stannis had never felt as nervous about a stupid holiday party, and even Selyse noticed there was something wrong with him.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked with a sneer in the car on the way to the party, pitching her voice low so that Shireen wouldn’t hear. He doubted Shireen would hear even if Selyse had shouted, however. His daughter always had earbuds in her ears these days. It seemed his daughter believed that a moment not spent listening to music was a moment wasted.

“Nothing,” he bit out, shooting his wife an irritated look.

“You look pale and sweaty,” Selyse said without an ounce of concern in her tone. Honestly, he might have been sick. Would it kill her to _pretend_ to care?

“I’m fine,” he insisted, glaring at Selyse for a second before focusing on the road again. It was dark and it was raining rather heavily; not the best conditions.

Selyse didn’t argue, but she snorted in disbelief. He chose to ignore her snort.

Once they were at the party, having greeted his brother and taken care of the mandatory small talk, Stannis broke away from his family to head for the refreshment table.

“Wow, three slices of lemon. Are you doing okay?” Renly said sardonically, sidling up beside him.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Stannis snapped, losing his patience. Robert had made some idiotic comment, too, and Cersei had given him a more disgusted look than she usually did.

“Maybe because you look like a nervous wreck?” Renly said, unruffled.

“I do not,” Stannis bit out. He probably did, though.

“You know I don’t like to play the gay card, but trust me, you look terrible. Go to the little boys’ room and try to do something about this. You’re tie isn’t even on straight. Here, I’ll hold your drink.” Renly took his glass of water from him and pushed him in the direction of the nearest bathroom.

Stannis bared his teeth at his brother, but a cursory look down at himself made him sigh and start walking. His tie _was_ crooked.

Of course, looking down at his tie and walking at the same time proved to be a bad idea. He had only taken a few steps when he walked right into someone. Some female one. With long red hair and a very pretty, sparkly dress on.

Seven fucking hells. He’d walked right into Sansa Stark.

“Oh!” she exclaimed in a voice that sounded just as perfect as it sounded in all her films. She also looked perfect. She looked even better in person than she looked on camera, in fact. Breathing was becoming a problem.

“I’m so sorry,” she said apologetically, a kind smile lighting her face up in a way that made him forget his name for a few seconds. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Stannis, right?” She was looking at him expectantly, and he was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open.

He couldn’t get himself to move or speak! He was just standing there, staring at her, his mouth open and his body utterly frozen. He was rapidly becoming quite thoroughly mortified, but he just couldn’t get his brain to command his body to work.

Sansa’s smile was becoming forced, and she wa starting look a little worried and sympathetic. It was like she was wondering if he had some kind of mental deficiency. 

The thought of Sansa Stark believing he was functionally retarded kicked him back into action.

“Yes,” he choked out, “Stannis Baratheon.”

Sansa looked relieved and her dazzling smile came back in full force, making him blink as if he was driving out of a tunnel on a sunny day.

“It’s so nice to see you! I feel like I haven’t really ever spoken to you properly. Shireen usually mentions you, though,” Sansa chatted happily, still smiling. Stannis nodded, wondering if he should say something in return.

“You’re Sansa Stark,” he managed, feeling a thrill at saying the words out loud. To _her._

“Guilty,” she said with a modest look on her face.

“You’re an actress,” he said intelligently, wincing as soon as the words left his mouth. Could he sound more stupid if he tried?

“Yes,” Sansa said easily, “Shireen told me you sometimes watch my films with her. I think that’s so sweet of you. I can’t picture my dad doing anything like that.”

She wouldn’t think it was sweet if she had any idea _why_ he liked watching her films.

“I usually only watch with one eye,” he said gruffly, feeling himself flush at the lie.

“Still,” Sansa said with a shrug, smiling like a goddess, “I’m shooting a new film in a few weeks right here in King’s Landing. You should bring Shireen to the set sometime. I’m sure she’d love it, and you wouldn’t have to watch with more than one eye.”

Stannis lost the ability to speak again. An opportunity to see Sansa in person again? So soon?

“I’ve been wanting to invite her onto one of my sets for a while, but I didn’t want to invite her directly in case it wasn’t okay with you and Selyse. I tried to ask Selyse once, but she started talking about travel expenses and I didn’t really get to finish,” Sansa said bemusedly, giving Stannis an apologetic look -- as if she need to apologise for finding Selyse ridiculous. He restrained himself from rolling his eyes, but only barely.

“That’s very kind,” Stannis croaked. He was able to continue in a more normal tone of voice, finding his confidence. “I’m sure I could take Shireen to your set at some point. Perhaps on a weekend, so she won’t miss school?”

“Of course,” Sansa said sweetly, “do you have a number I could call to arrange the details?”

Stannis reached for the small stack of business cards he kept about his person and handed her one. She thanked him and ended their conversation gracefully, heading over to her parents. He stood still like a fool for much too long after she walked away, having forgotten what he had been doing before he walked into her. A glance down at his tie reminded him, and he headed for the washroom.

***

Stannis was on a business trip. He enjoyed business trips because it meant sleeping at a hotel, away from Selyse and away from Shireen. Away from everyone.

Sleeping at a hotel meant that he could re-watch one of Sansa’s films and stick his hands down his pants without worrying about getting caught.

Her most recent film had a scene where she was going to bed with some handsome idiot, and he kept rewinding and watching again and again as most of her back was shown, and a glimpse of the side of her breast. He felt marginally less guilty about doing this now that she was eighteen, but it just wouldn’t be masturbating without a hefty septa-induced serving of guilty angst to go along with it. (If his parents’ death hadn’t put him off religion, the strict septas of his school would have done the job eventually.)

He relaxed his grip on his cock while he rewound to the start of the bedroom scene again, letting it play for about the twentieth time. He was too far gone to stroke himself gently, so he gripped himself with almost a little too much force as the handsome idiot started to undress Sansa’s character. He drew in a sharp breath as the camera focused on Sansa’s dress pooling at her feet, and sped up the movement of his hand as the camera slowly worked its way up Sansa’s body, showing her legs and thighs, but then unfortunately going straight to the idiot, showing his gobsmacked look of appreciation. Then there was a lot of kissing, and _there!_ Stannis groaned as the camera showed a bra being dropped to the floor. Now it was time for the best shot; the one of her perfect unblemished back as she held her hair up so that the idiot could unclasp her necklace for her and romantically kiss her neck. And just before the scene faded to black… yes! The side of her breast!

Stannis had sped up to a frantic pace, his eyes glued to the screen, and just as he saw the soft swell of her breast he felt the hot sensation of his orgasm overtaking him. He fought to keep his eyes open, but found that he couldn’t as he grunted and tried not to jerk his hips too much as warm spunk dribbled all over his hand.

Once he caught his breath he cleaned up and made himself a cup of tea. He drank it slowly and went over the notes he had taken at the day’s meeting and took some additional notes that he would need to bring up at tomorrow’s meeting.

When he felt like he could, he pressed play again and started stroking his cock back to life; the dull ache of his guilt almost an aphrodisiac at this point.

Masturbating as he watched Sansa’s films was something he couldn’t do unless he was away from home, so he tended to take full advantage of the opportunities he got. At home he was mostly able to sneak quick wanks in the shower and they were never quite as satisfying.

Not for the first time he wished that Selyse would acquiesce to his idea of separate bedrooms. Perhaps if he had his own room in his own house he would be able to do this at home. But Selyse insisted on sharing his bed, even though she wouldn’t let him fuck her anymore. Not that he’d really want to, anyway. He’d probably just take her from behind and pretend she was Sansa.

… That didn’t sound so bad, actually.

His nameday was coming up. Maybe he’d be able to wheedle Selyse into spreading her legs? It was beneath him, but it was marginally less awful than the prospect of hiring a hooker. (Something he would never ever consider.)

He’d have to think about it.

***

Shireen had actually looked more interested in listening to him rather than her music when he had explained that they’d be spending Saturday afternoon at Sansa Stark’s film set.

After the obligatory hyperventilation and high-pitched exclamations, Shireen went pale and collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. 

“What do I wear?” she moaned woefully.

Stannis ended up giving her a handful of gold dragons and sending her to the mall. (“Don’t tell your mother.”)

It was worth it for how pleased she was with her outfit when Saturday arrived. He did not have to listen to any meltdowns about how she had nothing appropriate to put on, and she got quietly into the car with plenty of time to spare for the drive. Hopefully she was preoccupied enough with her own clothes not to notice that he had put on his best suit and most flattering, dark blue tie. He didn’t want her to read anything into it.

At the set Stannis and Shireen were waved through security as soon as Stannis flashed the passes Sansa had sent him, and a harried looking woman who was probably someone’s assistant led them to the location where filming was currently underway. The woman placed a forefinger on her lips and motioned for them to stand off to the side where they would not get in the way.

Stannis hoped his fascination with the scene that was being filmed was not as obvious as his daughter’s. She was staring with her eyes wide and her mouth gaping while he was clenching his jaw and working hard to keep his eyes from betraying him.

Sansa was wearing a beautiful period dress and talking to an older woman in an even more elaborate gown. Stannis was sure she was wearing a corset underneath all that ivory and powder blue fabric, because he was intimately familiar with her cleavage, and he had never seen so much of it. Her waist looked even tinier than usual, too.

“And cut! Take five everybody,” the director suddenly yelled, and as soon as the words had left his mouth a cacophony of sound started up, making Stannis want to flinch away from the assault on his senses.

Shireen was waving excitedly at Sansa, and Sansa smiled widely and waved back. Two or three people came over to Sansa and fussed over her for a few seconds, but soon she was free to walk over to where he and Shireen were standing.

“I’m so glad you two could make it,” she said happily, giving Shireen a brief hug and shaking his embarrassingly clammy hand.

“Of course we made it! Thanks for inviting us!” Shireen exclaimed excitedly and bounced on the balls of her feet; a fifteen year old ball of energy. Unfortunately it would not be dignified for him to do the same thing.

“Do you know anything about the film?” Sansa asked genially, smiling at Shireen.

“A little. Isn’t it based off that book that came out a few years ago? About the girl who is trapped in an arranged marriage with an really important man, but starts spying on her husband’s friends by sleeping with them and collecting all their secrets?” Shireen babbled without pausing for breath.

“Yes, and then she uses the information to pressure her husband into giving her a divorce so that she can finally marry the man she loves,” Sansa finished, nodding encouragingly at Shireen.

Stannis stopped listening the moment he realised there would probably be more than one bedroom scene in the film. Would there perhaps be a shot of Sansa stripped down to her corset? He was already breathing more heavily than he usually did at the thought, and his upper lip was starting to feel a little sweaty.

“Do you want to go see the costume department?” Sansa asked Shireen once they had finished discussing the plot of the film.

“Yes, please!” Shireen squealed. Sansa waved another one of those harried assistants over and asked the young man to take Shireen to see the costumes. Stannis was about to follow, but felt a tiny pressure on his wrist and saw that Sansa had placed her hand there, subtly telling him to stay.

“Sorry, but I wanted a word without Shireen overhearing,” Sansa said apologetically once Shireen and the assistant were out of earshot.

Stannis swallowed thickly and nodded. Sansa wanted a private word with him? Whatever for? His heart started racing as if he had just been competing in a triathlon, and his mouth had never felt so dry.

“I didn’t realise we’d be shooting a sex scene today when I invited you both to the set. It will be tasteful, of course, but I thought I ought to warn you in case you don’t want Shireen to see that. The film is only going to be PG-13, however, so there really shouldn’t be a problem,” Sansa said matter-of-factly in a calm tone of voice. There was a faint pink tinge to her cheeks that betrayed the fact that she was a little embarrassed, however. It made her look even more beautiful that she already looked, and gave him all sorts of inappropriate ideas.

“Aren’t you a little young to be shooting those sorts of scenes?” Stannis asked awkwardly, his voice hoarse. It was the only thing he had been able to think to say that didn’t sound massively perverted.

“You’d think so, right?” Sansa said with a forced laugh, “but the second I turned eighteen all the scripts I’m offered contain sex scenes and at least partial nudity. I tried to explain to my manager that my fanbase is too young for that sort of stuff, but my publicist thinks it’s time for me to leave my ‘kid-friendly’ roots behind…” Sansa trailed off and looked apologetic again, “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to dump this on you.”

“It’s fine,” he hurried to say, wanting her to please keep talking to him about sex scenes. He also made a mental note of finding out who Sansa’s publicist was and sending the person a gift basket.

“Places! Places, everyone!” the director yelled, making Sansa turn her head around for a second and giving Stannis a wonderful view of her long, graceful neck. _Gods, he wanted to bite it._

“We’ll probably work on this scene a while longer, but like I said, the next scene will be a bit racy. It’s up to you whether you let Shireen watch,” Sansa said quickly, smiling at him and touching his upper arm. He didn’t have time to say anything in response because she turned on her heel and went to her spot in front of the cameras.

His arm tingled where Sansa had touched him and he knew that wild horses would not be able to drag him away from the set if she was about to act in a sex scene. His daughter was definitely quite old enough to see such things, and Sansa had said that the film would be PG-13, anyway.

Waiting for the current scene to wrap took an _age,_ but eventually the director seemed pleased, and the noise level rose as everyone started to prepare for the next scene. Shireen had returned to his side, and she waved to Sansa. Sansa shook off the people that were swarming all around her and came over to speak with them again.

“I have to go get ready for my next scene, but I hope to see you when I get back!” she told them in a rush, smiling brightly.

“Of course!” Shireen exclaimed, “and the costumes were awesome! Thanks for asking Pod to take me to see them.”

“You’re welcome,” Sansa said sweetly, already being pulled away.

Shireen pulled out her phone and started taking texting her friends from school about where she was and what she was doing. The security guards had told them not to take any pictures, and Stannis watched carefully to see whether she was following the rules. He was not going to be thrown out because his daughter decided to be careless.

Finally they were asked to follow the harried young man that his daughter called ‘Pod’ to a location nearby. It was an opulent bedroom with a huge bed at its centre and beautiful furniture that appeared antique, though it smelled brand new.

“What’s the next scene?” Shireen asked Pod.

“Uh, I think it’s the scene where Sansa’s character - Alayne - persuades Judge Williams to tell her the secret her husband has been hiding from her,” Pod said, glancing at his clipboard.

“Oh, that’s a great scene!” Shireen said happily, “it was one of the best in the book.”

“I agree,” Pod said with a quick smile, “I doubt they’ll start filming quite yet, but the refreshment table is over there if you get hungry.” With that, he left them.

It was the longest wait of Stannis’ adult life, but after an eternity he saw Sansa walk back on set wearing a thick, comfortable-looking robe. Her makeup had been altered and her hair was no longer in the elegant updo it had been in before. Instead it was falling over her shoulders and tumbling down her back in wild waves, artfully tousled to appear as if she had just been rolling around in bed.

Stannis almost choked on his bottled water, but was able to swallow it with some difficulty, his eyes watering uncomfortably due to the strain of keeping from coughing and spluttering. Shireen shot him an exasperated look and rolled her eyes.

It was perhaps wise that Stannis refrained from drinking any more water as Sansa dropped her robe and got into place with a distinguished looking older actor. Sansa was clearly wearing a corset, only barely hidden by a sheer shift, and her legs were bare. Stannis did not spare the man portraying Judge Williams a single glance, and could not have described what he was wearing even at gunpoint.

When the director yelled action Stannis almost stopped breathing as he was so keen to observe every detail of the scene.

It was everything Stannis could have hoped for in a film rated PG-13. Sansa ended up on the bed, wearing nothing but her corset and frilly lingerie, and she was kissing a man who was probably even older than _he_ was. For some reason that gave him hope that he might stand a chance, even though his rational brain told him he was being ridiculous.

When they stopped kissing and started talking Stannis didn’t listen to a word of what they were saying. He was too busy watching the way Sansa’s every breath made her breasts strain against the corset, the way her hair was catching light and the way her lips moved when she spoke.

Stannis almost glared at the director when he yelled “cut!” but managed to restrain himself.

“Dad?” Shireen said quietly, poking his elbow.

“What?”

“It’s kind of weird to watch this. I think I’m going to go talk to Pod,” Shireen said, blushing faintly, “he said he might be able to take me to see the prop department.”

“Fine, I’ll wait here.”

Shireen wrinkled her nose and gave him a look that said quite clearly that she did not want to know why he wanted to keep watching the bedroom scene.

After the director had made Sansa and her co-star run through the scene three more times Stannis had to take a break from watching as he would become obviously aroused otherwise. He walked over to the refreshments and picked up a new bottle of water to cool himself down.

 _Pathetic,_ he thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing the bottle against his forehead. 

_Fucking pathetic._

***

Sansa had nursed a tiny crush on Stannis Baratheon since she was a little girl. It had all started when he had been teaching Shireen, Myrcella and Tommen to swim at Robert’s house, because Robert had a pool. Sansa and Arya had been left at Robert’s place to be looked after for the afternoon because of some reason or another, and Sansa had ended up watching the lesson. She would have loved to join in, but she hadn’t had her bathing suit. Arya had simply jumped into the pool in her underwear, of course, but Sansa had been too proper to do such a thing. She had watched from afar instead.

Sansa had only been nine years old, but she had been old enough to appreciate the way Stannis had looked in his swimming trunks, and become rather fascinated with him. She had never seen men who looked like that in real life. Her dad certainly did not have muscles that showed the way Stannis’ did. Her dad was strong, but he had some soft padding that made him a wonderful hugger. Stannis almost looked like one would cut oneself if one tried to hug him. 

Sansa had never really dared to speak to Stannis as he always seemed to be in a bad mood, but she had never forgotten what she had seen. Nor had she forgotten the patient stern way he managed to get even Arya to learnt the basics of the breaststroke and the crawl.

When they had been knocked together at Robert’s Christmas party she had noticed that Stannis did not seem to have changed at all since the day he had taught Arya and the others to swim. Still very… _hard._

She hadn’t been able to help inviting him to bring Shireen to her set, hoping that he would stay to watch her work, too -- with more than one eye. Even though Sansa had spent her teens around men that were much more handsome than Stannis Baratheon, there was something that interested her about him. Something that self-obsessed actors with perfect physiques did not possess.

 _Like a wedding ring,_ she reminded herself with a sigh.

The fact that he was married should turn her off him, but perhaps there was something very wrong with her, because it only made her feel a little thrill of excitement to know that he was watching when she dropped her comfortable robe to reveal the corset she had been squeezed into. She was very aware of how beautiful she was, and she hoped the sight of her in period lingerie was interesting enough to be looked at with _both_ eyes. Due to the bright lights of the set she had no idea if he was watching, but the idea that he might be staring at her with those intense dark blue eyes drove her to give the performance of her life. This would be the sexiest damn scene in history if she had anything to say about it.

When the director declared they were done for the day, Sansa was almost too impatient to allow the assistants to wrap her back in her robe and fuss over her. She was dying to know what Stannis had thought of the scene. She was curious to know what Shireen thought, too, as the younger girl had read the book and was a fan. Sansa was very worried that the more grown up themes in her films might be alienating her fans, and Shireen was a perfect representative of the group.

She found Stannis standing off to the side, obviously trying very hard to not get in anyone’s way, but Shireen was nowhere to be seen.

“Still here?” Sansa said cheerfully, approaching Stannis with her heart beating a little faster than usual.

Stannis nodded once, his eyes boring into her like drills. Her heartbeat sped up even more.

“Where’s Shireen?”

“I think she went to look at the props with that assistant… Pod, was it?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. That’s - that’s great. I suppose it gets boring to watch the same scene over and over,” she babbled, feeling a little nervous to be talking to Stannis on her own after he had been watching her pretend to have sex while wearing very little.

“It was a little repetitive,” Stannis said, clearing his throat.

_Oh, gods. Had he been bored?_

“That’s the glamorous life of a film actor,” Sansa said with forced cheer, “sometimes we do a scene so often that I end up doing the scene in my dreams!”

“Understandable.”

Sansa couldn’t think of anything to say for a moment because Stannis was still gazing at her intently with his piercing eyes, and she almost felt hypnotised by it.

“What did you - um - what did you think of the scene?” Sansa finally managed, breaking the silence.

“It was interesting.” Stannis looked a little uncomfortable and looked at the floor instead of meeting her eyes. Was that a faint tinge of red on his cheekbones?

“A little too racy for you?” Sansa flirted before she could stop herself, emboldened by his apparent embarrassment.

Stannis cleared his throat again and looked up to meet her eyes. His eyes looked darker than ever, making _her_ blush. “Isn’t it odd to be expected to roll around with a man who appears to be older than your father?”

“I don’t really think of Mr. Dance in terms of his age,” Sansa said with a small smile, “and as long as my co-stars make sure to brush their teeth first it doesn’t really make much of a difference to me how old they are.”

“Hm,” was all Stannis said to that, but his expression told her there was a lot going on behind his eyes.

Shireen turned up at that point and Sansa started to ask her what her opinion on the scene had been, assuming she had seen at least one take before leaving to explore the props department. It pleased Sansa to know that Shireen had thought the scene was quite true to the book, and that she was excited to watch the finished film.

“Though I’m not sure it’s the kind of film I’m going to want to watch with my dad,” Shireen said, giving her father a sidelong glance.

Sansa laughed. “I know what you mean,” she said once her laughter died down, “whenever I watch films that have sex scenes with my parents I want to sink into the ground and disappear.”

Shireen nodded emphatically while Stannis crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled.

“We should get going,” he said sharply, obviously disliking where the conversation had gone.

“Sure, I don’t want to keep you,” Sansa said, masking her disappointment, “talk to Pod on your way out. He’ll hook you up with some merchandise.”

“Thank you so much for inviting us!” Shireen said effusively, beaming brightly and transforming into rather a beauty while she smiled.

“Yes, thank you. This was quite generous of you,” Stannis said stiffly.

“Absolutely no trouble at all,” Sansa said, smiling brightly and wishing she could think of a reason to meet Stannis again before next Christmas.

_He’s married. He has a kid. Stop being stupid._

“Nonetheless, please feel free to call on me if there’s anything I can do to return the favour,” he said, the red tinge back in his cheeks. The way he spoke convinced Sansa he was not used to uttering such pleasantries, and she smiled at him encouragingly.

“Thank you, I just might do that,” she said, probably a little too flirtatiously judging by the way he was swallowing convulsively and breathing faster. She must have made him uncomfortable...

They left and Sansa immediately became distracted with the need to get out of her horrible corset. 

_How had women worn these things day in and day out?_

***

“You promised you would never show these to anyone!” Sansa shouted, feeling betrayed and horrified.

“Did I?” Mr. Baelish said, raising an eyebrow, “I must have been lying.”

Sansa couldn’t believe him. She could not _believe_ him. How could he do this to her?

“Oh, don’t look so _betrayed._ You know just as well as I do that these pictures will only help your career.”

“My fanbase consists of impressionable young girls!” she exclaimed, an imploring note to her tone, “this might have a really negative effect on them!”

“With any luck it will inspire some of them to follow in your illustrious footsteps,” Mr. Baelish said unconcernedly.

“I never wanted to take those pictures,” Sansa said angrily, glaring at Mr. Baelish, “you told me it was the only way to get the female lead in the biopic about Aegon the Conqueror!”

Mr. Baelish just shrugged as if to ask what her point was.

Sansa threw all dignity to the wind and walked right up close to Mr. Baelish so that she could look him in the eye.

“Please,” she begged, “please don’t do this to me.”

His grey-green eyes softened for a moment before hardening again. “I’m afraid it’s too late,” he said smoothly, “the pictures will be online tomorrow. They’ve already been sent out to Westeros Daily.”

Sansa paused. That was a newspaper that was owned by Baratheon Enterprises, wasn’t it?

“Fine,” she snapped, taking a step away from Mr. Baelish, “I have to go talk to my publicist.”

“She already knows.”

Sansa glared at Mr. Baelish and felt a lump start to form in her throat. She had always thought she could trust Myranda Royce, but apparently not.

“Fuck you, Petyr Baelish,” she said in a shaky voice before storming out of the room.

Her driver was thankfully unaware of the whole sordid situation and did not question her when she asked him to drive to Dragonstone Towers. 

She finally had a good excuse to see Stannis again, she thought bitterly.

***

Stannis was attending a terrible presentation about possible marketing strategies for a new type of lawn mower that one branch of the company was developing when his assistant came in and whispered that he had a visitor who claimed to need to speak to him about an urgent matter.

“Davos, can you take over here?” Stannis asked his right hand, wanting nothing more than to escape and deal with this mysterious urgent matter. 

“Of course,” Davos said gruffly, leaving Stannis free to go to his office to meet his visitor.

Nothing could have surprised him more than finding Sansa standing by the large windows of his office, looking over the harbour and appearing very deep in thought.

Stannis carefully closed his office door behind him, his heart beating at a rate that it usually didn’t reach unless he was lifting something _very_ heavy at the gym. It had been months since he had taken Shireen to Sansa’s film set, and he hadn’t seen or spoken to Sansa since then.

The click of the door prompted Sansa to turn around, and Stannis noticed that she looked more upset than thoughtful.

“Thank you for seeing me,” she said quietly, a small tremor in her voice.

“Of course,” he said brusquely, gesturing at one of the visitors’ chairs in front of his desk and moving to sit down himself, “how may I help you?”

To his horror she sat down and immediately burst into tears.

He froze for an entire minute while she sobbed, but when she started to try to wipe her face with the back of her hand, he sprang into action. His office boasted a tiny en suite, and he found a box of tissues in there for Sansa’s use. She accepted his offering gratefully, and used several tissues to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. He remained silent while she did this, looking studiously out the window instead of staring at her like he wanted to.

Eventually she calmed down enough to speak.

“I-I’m so-sorry about this,” she stammered with a little sniff, “I didn’t mean to cry.”

“What is this about?” he asked awkwardly, curious about the strange situation he had been pulled into on what had up until then been normal, mind-numbing Thursday afternoon.

Sansa took a deep and shaky breath. “Please don’t think less of me for this,” she began imploringly, looking at him with her big, red-rimmed and tearful eyes, “but shortly after my eighteenth nameday I allowed a casting director called Petyr Baelish to take nude photographs of me because he said it would secure me the lead role in a biopic about Aegon the Conqueror that is due to start filming next week.”

Stannis swallowed and immediately started to wonder how he might get his hands on these photographs. He cursed his initial instinct after a moment, reminding himself that the girl he wanted to look at naked pictures of was very distressed and sitting right _there_ so he should stop being a pathetic pervert. He needed to be a decent human being now.

“And did you get the role?” Stannis asked, not knowing what else to say to get her to continue talking.

“Yes,” Sansa said, sounding as if she was surprise that he didn’t know this. He realised this was information that had probably been all over the gossip rags for months, but he never really paid attention to those things. “I got the role. But the thing is…” Sansa trailed off and took several deep breaths in order to keep from dissolving into tears again. Stannis waited calmly for her to continue, hoping he looked sympathetic and understanding. He was trying not to scowl, at least.

“Baelish has sent the pictures to Westeros Daily and they’re going to be published tomorrow.”

 _Westeros Daily?_ Baratheon Enterprises owned the majority share in that paper if he was not very much mistaken. That had to be why she was here, Stannis realised, she wanted him to stop the pictures being published.

“Say no more,” Stannis said quickly, reaching for his desk phone, “I’ll make sure they aren’t published at any paper under Baratheon Enterprises.”

Sansa looked at him like he had just saved her life, and it sent a rush of endorphins coursing through him. He could get used to a beautiful woman looking at him like that.

It was a short phone call as Stannis never had to use very many words to get people to obey him, but the editor in chief of the paper did not sound very happy about the order to suppress the story.

“I’ll kill the story if you want Mr. Baratheon, but those pictures are going to be online before long whether it’s us or someone else that publishes them,” the man said irritably before hanging up.

“I know the pictures will be out soon no matter what,” Sansa said sadly once Stannis had explained what the editor had said, “Baelish will see to that. But now I’ll at least have a chance to prepare myself.”

Stannis watched as Sansa seemed to transform in front of his eyes; going from a wilted, downtrodden flower to a determined young woman with a stubborn look on her face and a straight back.

“I hate to ask more of you, but you wouldn’t happen to know of a place where I could stay for the next few days… just until the media frenzy dies down?” Sansa asked, giving him a hesitantly hopeful look.

He blinked at her, surprised by the request. Surely she had a place in the city?

“I have an apartment, but as soon as the photos leak I’m going to have photographers stationed outside my door trying to get a shot of me, and if I stay at a hotel there’s always going to be another guest or a member of staff who gives my location away,” Sansa explained, clearly having noticed his confusion.

“I have a key to Robert’s penthouse in the centre of town,” Stannis said slowly, trying to remember if Robert was currently involved with a bimbo. Robert usually always stayed in his villa on the outskirts of the city unless he was in the middle of a sordid affair. Stannis hadn’t noticed any of the usual signs lately, so he guessed the penthouse would be free for at least a few days.

“Do you think he would mind if I stayed there for a few days?”

“Probably not, but I’m not going to tell him. He can’t keep his mouth shut even when he’s sober.”

Sansa giggled a little guiltily and placed her hand over her mouth to stop herself.

***

Stannis decided to personally escort Sansa to Robert’s apartment building. The security there was decent and the doorman would be unlikely to let Sansa in if she showed up with a key and no one to vouch for her. It was also an opportunity to spend more time with her, and Stannis couldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

After a chat with the security guard, and a generous tip to make sure the man would keep his peace regarding the fact that Sansa would be staying at the building for the next few days, Stannis was opening the door to Robert’s ridiculously ostentatious penthouse. There were windows everywhere with blinds that were electronically operated. There was a lot of wide open space, and the ceiling was very high. The furniture was sleek and everything was expensively ‘minimalistic’ as Renly would say. There was a lot of black, white, glass and chrome. There were tiles on the floor where they entered the apartment, but the floor changed to hardwood as they progressed further inside, and in the living room area there was a thick rug on the floor.

“Do you think you will be all right here?” he asked, hanging back while Sansa started to look around.

“I’m sure I will,” Sansa said with a small smile, “thank you so much for doing all this.”

Stannis nodded, feeling a little hot under the collar. He decided to go to the kitchen to distract himself, hoping to figure out whether there was anything edible in the cupboards. He doubted the fridge would be stocked with anything except possibly some booze.

As he suspected, the kitchen was empty of anything that would sustain a person for a few days. “I’ll arrange to have groceries delivered,” he said loudly so his voice would carry to where Sansa was examining the television set.

“That would be great, thank you,” Sansa called back.

As he was out of useful things to do, he walked over to join her.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling as if he had been doing nothing else since he had found her in his office. “Is there anything else you require?”

Sansa turned to face him, looking up at him with eyes that still bore the signs of her recent crying jag. She was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen despite that, and his heart started to pound frantically in his chest at their proximity. It would be so easy to kiss her. He’d only need to lean down a little…

“You must think I’m so terribly stupid,” she whispered, not answering his question.

Stannis furrowed his brow in confusion. Why on earth would he think that?

“Allowing some sleazy casting director to take naked pictures of me for a part… I’m such a cliché,” she went on, hugging herself and staring miserably at the floor.

“I thought it was a cliché if the casting director asked for sexual favours?” he said before thinking, almost biting his tongue when he realised what he’d said.

Sansa laughed mirthlessly, and gave him a sardonic look that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. “I’m sure he would have tried it if he thought he’d be able to get away with it, but I’m smart enough to get out when I run into a typical casting couch situation.”

Stannis wondered why she had gone in for the pictures since she was apparently smart enough to avoid being taken advantage of sexually, but before he was able to decide whether to ask or not, Sansa was talking again.

“Baelish made it sound like the pictures would be tasteful black and white pieces for a series he is working on. Very classy and very artistic. He showed me some of the other pictures from the series and they were all very well done and beautiful. It was… flattering... to be asked.” Sansa sounded bitter and angry as she spoke, but Stannis wasn’t certain if she was angry with Baelish or herself.

“Were the pictures he took of you like the ones he showed you?” Stannis asked curiously.

“Yes,” Sansa sighed, “the ones I’ve seen so far, at least.”

“Well, that’s something,” he said bracingly, thinking that a few artistic nudes would cause less of a scandal than pornographic shots.

“They aren’t supposed to ruin my career,” Sansa said, still bitter, “they’re supposed to bring more attention to the film we’re about to start shooting.”

“But it’s not the sort of attention you want?” Stannis asked, trying to understand.

“Exactly,” Sansa nodded, “I don’t want girls like Shireen - girls that look up to me - to think taking your clothes off is a good way to get ahead in life.”

Stannis swallowed. Being so close to Sansa while she talked about taking clothes off and getting _ahead_... his trousers were starting to feel a little tight.

“Responsible of you,” he said hoarsely, staring at her and wishing he could take her clothes off.

“So many girls get eaten up and spat out by this industry,” Sansa whispered, staring right back up at him and hugging herself again, “I thought I’d be the exception that proved the rule.”

“You’re doing pretty well,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “you’re not addicted to pills or booze, and you’ve not given any casting directors sexual favours.”

Sansa giggled and dropped her arms. “Yes, that’s true.” She looked at him seriously once her giggles faded away and bit her lip in a way that made him want to groan. “I’ve barely ever even had sex at all, you know.”

He felt himself flush completely red at those words, and when he opened his mouth to respond nothing came out.

“I’ve been famous since I was twelve,” she explained with a sad smile, “and it’s been hard to find a man who has been interested in who I am as a person.”

Stannis snapped his mouth shut, sweating guiltily. He had only become interested in her because he had seen her films. He had no idea who she was as a person.

“I slept with one of my bodyguards when I was fifteen because… I don’t really even know why. He seemed to want to, and I was curious.” Sansa shrugged and went to sit down on the sofa, curling up and hugging her knees to her chest.

“The first time wasn’t very enjoyable,” she said thoughtfully, staring off into the middle distance and sounding like she was talking to herself. Stannis didn’t dare move or talk for fear of startling her and causing her to stop talking.

“He kept calling me ‘little bird’ for some reason and I bled a lot,” she went on, “I think I was just too nervous. Apparently it’s not supposed to hurt if you do it right. It got better.”

She looked at him then, a curious light in her eyes. “Have you ever slept with a virgin?”

Stannis made a choked sound and spluttered for a little while. He had been completely unprepared for such a question and he had no idea how to answer her.

“I’m sorry, this conversation has become very personal. You don’t have answer. I have no idea what got into me,” Sansa said apologetically, uncurling herself and sitting normally on the sofa. She looked very repentant.

“Yes,” he said, not wanting this oddly personal conversation to end. He wanted to stay here and tell Sansa all his secrets, and learn all of hers, and then he wanted to fuck her on every flat surface in Robert’s stupid penthouse.

“What was it like?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Awful,” he admitted, unable to lie, “I had no idea what I was doing.”

Sansa grinned at him and he felt a little less tense. “Did you get any better at it later?” she asked cheekily, biting her lip in that distracting way of hers.

“It would have been hard to get worse,” he said derisively, crossing his arms across his chest and scowling at the floor. This was really not an appropriate conversation _at all,_ but it was the longest conversation he had ever had with Sansa, and he’d follow wherever she led him.

Sansa patted the seat next to her very pointedly, and didn’t say anything else until he was sitting beside her.

“I know this is really personal, but was it Selyse?” Sansa asked softly, tilting her head to the side and blushing faintly.

His throat felt dry and his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth, so he only nodded.

“Have you never been with anyone else?” Her tone was gentle, her eyes completely free of judgement.

He shook his head slowly, feeling his cheeks heat up yet again, flushing with embarrassment. It really was not very impressive for a man to only ever have slept with his wife.

“You’ve never wanted to be with anyone else?” she asked, still speaking in her gentle soft voice.

He couldn’t help but snort. What sort of question was that?

Sansa smiled but suppressed it almost at once. “You’re right, that’s a stupid question.”

Stannis swallowed and took a deep breath. “Selyse and I have never really had a very passionate relationship,” he said, trying not to sound too bitter, “but I’m not my brother,” he said hoarsely and stared intently at Sansa in order to gauge her reaction to his words.

“Robert has never really been a one woman kind of guy, has he?” Sansa remarked with a sardonic smile.

“No.”

“But you are?”

“So far.”

“Even though there is no passion between you and your wife?” Sansa sounded saddened, but there was no pity in her tone. He was grateful for it as he hated nothing more than the idea of being pitied.

“I’ve always believed there is more to life than ‘making the eight’ or some such nonsense.”

Sansa wrinkled her nose. She obviously knew what ‘making the eight’ meant, and she obviously found it as distasteful a goal as he did.

“I knew there was a reason why I always liked you,” Sansa said once she had unwrinkled her nose, her eyes sparkling in a way that captivated him utterly.

Her words registered and he blinked at her in confusion. “You always liked me?”

“Well, I suppose I’ve never spoken with you very much. But I remember the way you managed to teach Arya more about swimming in one afternoon than she learnt after a whole summer of classes, and you didn’t even have to raise your voice,” Sansa said admiringly, smiling at him a little shyly.

Stannis had no idea how to respond to that so he just continued to blink at her in confusion, still flushed and more than a little aroused. No one that attractive had ever spoken to him with such admiration, much less anyone he had ever spent so much time fantasising about.

“Do you like me?” Sansa asked with a pink blush. She had turned her body to face his, and she had somehow made the space he had left between them when he had sat down disappear.

“Uh - I - what?” he stammered intelligently, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he was starting to wonder if it would break its way out soon.

“I just realised… you look at me the way Sandor used to,” Sansa whispered, her lips so close now that he could smell her lip balm.

“Sandor?” he choked out, feeling a light-headed and dizzy with arousal.

“The bodyguard I mentioned,” she explained, her hand tentatively going to his tie and starting to fiddle with it in a way that forced him to start breathing through his mouth.

“Do I?” he asked hoarsely, staring at her lips and wishing he had the courage to kiss her. This was wrong. He was _married_ and she was so _young_ and…

Sansa apparently had enough courage for the both of them as she closed the short distance between them and pressed her gloriously soft lips to his. Something in his brain shorted out and his guilt, his worries and his sense of decency seemed to fade away. All that mattered was the here and now, and the fact that Sansa Stark - the girl of his fantasies - was _kissing him._

He was still for a moment too long due to his surprise, and Sansa was starting to pull back uncertainly when he gained control of himself and started to kiss her back. She made an arousing little noise when he slid his tongue into her mouth, and it was the noise more than anything that prompted Stannis to wrap his arms around her and pull her onto his lap as he continued to deepen their kiss. She was warm and soft to the touch, and it felt absolutely blissful to experience the way she melted against him, becoming utterly pliant in his arms. It was as if she were communicating that she would let him do whatever he wanted with her, and it was making him harder than he could ever remember being in his life.

Before Stannis knew what had happened Sansa was straddling him and grinding herself against his erection in a way that was making him groan into her mouth. His hands were everywhere, touching her breasts through her clothes and then wandering down her body to cup her arse and press her even more tightly against his groin. Sansa was moaning and suddenly he was kissing her neck, sucking on the fragrant skin and creating a series of red marks from her jaw to her shoulder. Her sweater somehow came off, turning into a pile of cashmere on the floor, and his tongue was licking at her pushed up cleavage, savouring the taste of her and leaving a wet trail.

All he could hear was their loud breathing, their moans and his heart pounding in his ears. All he could concentrate on was the pressure of his erection; screaming for proper attention.

Sansa had been clinging to his shoulders and stroking the back of his head, but now she moved her hands behind her back, contorting herself strangely for a moment before her bra suddenly came loose. He hurried to help push the straps off her shoulders, letting the lacy article of clothing fall away to reveal the most perfect breasts in existence. He heard the strangled sound of appreciation he made as if from a great distance, unable to think about anything except his desire to fondle the soft mounds and tease the little pink nipples. Sansa was arching her back and thrusting her chest towards him, so he was not worried about asking her permission. It was quite obvious that she wanted to be touched.

The feel of her was even better than the sight, and Stannis made more strangled groans of pleasure as he moved his hands over her, trying to be gentle but unable to resist the temptation to _squeeze._ Sansa yelped when he squeezed a little too hard, and he shot her an apologetic look. 

Her face was _beautiful._ She was flushed with arousal, her lips were swollen and glistening due to their kisses, and her eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed over with pleasure.

“Off,” Sansa breathed, tugging on his shirt and distracting him from how gorgeous she was. He helped her with the fiddly little buttons of his dress shirt and Sansa kissed him eagerly as they fumbled with the impossible things. Finally, he shrugged both his shirt and his jacket off at the same time, but his tie remained stubbornly around his neck, though the knot was off centre, having been yanked on to allow the shirt to come off. Sansa bent to lick his pectorals, and he hissed with pleasure when her hot tongue ran over one of his flat nipples.

A little while later he was very nearly insane with need, so he pushed her off his lap and attacked the fly of her slacks, grateful that the fastenings weren’t very complex. He pushed her trousers and her underwear down in the same movement, and Sansa helped by kicking everything off, even her socks.

Seeing her like that, standing naked in front of him, was almost enough to finish him, but he refused to come in his pants like some teenager. He looked up at her, feeling reverent, and started to stroke the sides of her thighs, starting at her knees and making his way up to her hips and back down again.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, staring at all the flawless porcelain skin that was revealed to him and feeling like he must have fallen asleep at his desk and dreamt everything that had happened since he had found Sansa in his office.

“Bedroom?” Sansa asked heatedly, giving him a look that made him take her hands off her so that he could undo his belt.

“Over there,” he said as he attempted to stand up and get his trousers off all at once.

With everything off except his boxer briefs he led the way to the master bedroom, trying not to think about how many women Robert must have fucked in that very room. He knew that Robert always made sure the sheets were meticulously clean, and that was all that mattered, really.

Sansa threw herself on the bed, squealing in delight when she bounced on the mattress. It was a remarkably childlike thing to do, and it made Stannis hesitate. What was he _doing?_

“Are you coming?” Sansa asked him with a pointed look at his tented underwear and an excited smile.

_Fuck it._

He pushed his underwear down, feeling pretty confident that he had nothing to be ashamed of but unable to help casting a quick look at Sansa as soon as he was naked, wondering how she would react to the sight of his cock. He saw her eyes widen slightly and she took a deep breath, but otherwise she betrayed nothing.

He hurried to get on the bed with her, feeling a little exposed. As soon as he was within her reach, she was touching him; her hot little hand encircling his aroused flesh and stroking him in a way that made him forget to breathe for a moment.

“Do you like this?” she asked sweetly, “I’ve not done this very often and I’m not sure if everyone likes it the same…”

Stannis almost laughed. Sansa was the most stunning girl he had ever seen. She could do nearly anything she wanted with his cock and he’d like it.

“It’s good,” he managed, his breathing becoming more laboured the more she touched him.

“I want it to be _really_ good,” Sansa insisted, “please tell me what you want.”

It was impossible to explain it with words, so he decided to place his hand over hers and show her how he most liked to be touched. A firm grip; not too slow, not too fast. She got the hang of it quickly and pleasured him for a little while, looking delighted by every sound she managed to wring from his lips.

He wouldn’t last if she kept this up, so he gently pushed her hand away and locked eyes with her as he sought the place between her legs with his fingers. He watched her carefully, trying to detect any sign of distress or dislike. So far there was nothing but arousal and curiosity. When he reached her damp folds he paused, trying to silently ask her permission with his eyes. She answered his silent question by spreading her legs for him, biting her lip a little shyly. He swallowed thickly and began to explore the lay of the land, surprised at how hairless she was. She was perfectly smooth and softer than anything he had ever touched, already quite damp and ready.

“Show me what you like,” he ordered hoarsely, mirroring her request from before as he wanted this to be good for her and he was not feeling up to guessing at what she might want him to do.

Sansa went crimson, but she did as he asked and brought a small hand to rest on top of his bigger one, steering his fingers until he was touching her gently, the pads of his fingers stroking her folds in a steady circular motion. She was breathing more loudly the longer he kept at it and before very long she was urging him to move faster, and her thighs were trembling. 

It was _miraculous_ to watch her come, knowing that it was due to his hand, and knowing that she wanted him.

“Do you want…?” he trailed off, unable to get the words out but wanting to make sure she wanted him to do more before he attempted to climb on top of her.

“Mm, more?” she finished his question with a moan, “yes, please.” She sent him a slow, satisfied smile and spread her thighs even more, obviously to accommodate his body between them.

He did not need a clearer invitation than that and hurried to position himself on top of her, letting the head of his cock - clear liquid already seeping out of it - press against her wonderfully damp folds.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked in a sudden panic, pulling back slightly.

“Yes, don’t worry. I’m clean, too,” she said, her hands going to his arse and pulling him forward insistently. She really could not make herself any clearer.

The tip of his cock slipped inside of her and his eyes rolled into the back of his head at the sensation. There was nothing he could do at this point except thrust his hips and moan in ecstasy as he sank in to the hilt. “ _Fuck,_ ” he groaned as he found out what heaven felt like; warmth spreading from his groin to the rest of his body like spilt tea. He never wanted to be anywhere else again. He just wanted to remain balls deep in this gorgeous, perfect warm girl for the rest of his life.

“You feel amazing,” Sansa whispered, squeezing her inner muscles around him and making him groan again.

As much as he would have liked to just stay still like that forever, the biological drive to _thrust_ was taking over and he was powerless to resist. He pulled about halfway out and pushed himself back in experimentally, enjoying the feel of her and gasping with pleasure at the friction the movement created.

“Oh, _yes!_ ” Sansa exclaimed encouragingly, pulling her legs up to cradle him and give him easier access. Her hands were still on his arse, but he had forgotten about it until she tightened her grip on him playfully.

He experimented a bit more with how far to pull out, how fast to thrust himself back inside, and how much force to use. Sansa was quite vocal, but she seemed to like everything he did, so her reactions did not do much to help him figure out what would feel best for her. He ended up just giving into his instincts and doing what felt good to him. That meant more force, more speed and pulling out nearly all the way before slamming himself back inside; creating a loud smacking sound.

Sansa’s moans turned into high-pitched squeals and drawn out sighs, but eventually she was just exhaling a loud ‘ah!’ with every breath she took, growing louder and louder the longer he was able to last, until she was very nearly screaming in time with each loud smack. Her hands were roaming all over his back and scratching at his skin, making him aware of how sweaty he was getting but not making him care. His balls were tightening up and he was close enough to feel his oncoming orgasm like a word that was just on the tip of his tongue.

“Stannis, _Stannis!_ ” she suddenly cried out, sounding breathless and intensely erotic. It felt indescribably good to hear his name said in such a way, and the sound of it brought him over the edge, pleasure crashing over him as his climax forced him to thrust his hips with complete abandon; emptying himself of everything he had. He was grunting unattractively, but he could barely hear himself over Sansa’s moans, so he hoped she couldn’t hear him either.

He slowed to a halt as his breathing became normal again, and he kept his eyes closed so that he could catalogue every single sensation he was experiencing while still inside of her. But eventually he had to pull out and allow her to put her legs down, even though he wished he could have just kept going.

“You’re definitely not awful at this anymore,” Sansa said once they were lying side by side and had both recovered from their exertions. There was amusement in her voice as she referenced their earlier conversation, and Stannis could imagine the cheeky smile she was probably wearing.

Stannis harrumphed, not really knowing how to respond.

“I mean it,” Sansa said more seriously, “that was amazing.” She got up on one elbow and leant over him, pressing a sweet and lingering kiss to his lips.

“It was,” he agreed in a subdued tone of voice. Reality was catching up with him now that his nether regions weren’t doing all his thinking for him, and he was realising what exactly he had done. He had broken his vows. Cheated. He was an adulterer, and he would never be able to unfuck this up. It was as if some great hand had reached inside of him and started to crush his organs one by one.

“I should go,” he said, his voice hoarse and a little broken.

“Why?” she asked, sounding startled.

“This was - I shouldn’t have… I have work.”

“It’s nearly five o’clock.”

Stannis glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand and cursed under his breath. He should go home.

“I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly, standing up and finding his underwear.

“I’m not,” she said, sitting up on the bed and not bothering to take the covers with her. She was naked and her breasts were _right there._

Stannis stood on the floor, wearing nothing but boxer briefs and a guilty expression. His hand went to his hair; his fingers scratching at the mess at the back of his head. “I’m married.”

“You said there was no passion between you and Selyse,” Sansa said, still not bothering to cover herself. Her nipples were puckered and tempting.

“That’s no reason to start sleeping around,” Stannis bit out, casting about for his trousers. Where had he left them? Outside by the sofa?

“Why not?” Sansa asked, tilting her head to the side, causing her hair to shift and catch the light in the room prettily.

“I don’t know,” he growled, feeling frustrated and helpless. He stalked from the room to the sofa outside, wanting to get dressed. He heard Sansa get up from the bed and follow him. He was just pulling his trousers on when she caught up to him. She was still completely naked and the insides of her thighs were glistening with the evidence of his weakness.

“This seems like the sort of concern you should have raised before you _fucked me_ ,” Sansa said coldly, raising an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Stannis blurted out, feeling his face heat up and his shoulders sag.

“Then I like you better when you’re not thinking,” Sansa said, her tone soft and gentle again.

Stannis sighed and collapsed onto the sofa, his face in his hands. Sansa sat down next to him, pressing her warm naked skin close and making him simultaneously glad and irritated that he had not yet managed to put his shirt on.

“It’s okay, you know,” she whispered, “no one has to know about this.”

“I’ll know.”

“Do you regret it?”

Stannis dropped his hands from his face and looked at Sansa incredulously. Regret the most pleasurable thing that had happened in his miserable life? “Never.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, then.”

Stannis kissed her, wanting to taste her again and feeling reckless and stupid.

“Why would you want this?” he asked her when their kiss broke, still staring at her incredulously.

“You’re sexy,” Sansa said with a shrug.

Stannis blinked at her and felt his brow furrow in disbelief. He made a derisive noise that was not quite a snort.

“You are,” Sansa insisted, letting a single finger trail down from his neck, over his chest and over the ridges the muscles of his abdomen usually created when he sat the way he was sitting.

Stannis knew he was fit, but he did not have the sort of body that women seemed to be interested in. He was not bulky and bronzed like Sansa’s co-stars usually were. He was scrawny and pale and no matter how much he ate he could not really get rid of the slightly malnutritioned look he had been contending with ever since he had almost starved himself to an early grave when he had been depressed following the deaths of his parents.

“I’ve thought so since I was nine,” she said with a cheeky grin, “you looked quite nice in your swimmers.”

She was obviously referencing the time she had seen him teach Arya, Shireen, Myrcella and Tommen to swim, and it made him feel uncomfortable and a little flattered both at once.

“I hadn’t realised nine year olds thought about such things.”

“Well, I didn’t really know what I was thinking at the time. I understood it later.”

“Hm.”

They were both silent for a little while and Stannis felt acutely aware of Sansa’s nudity.

“Come back to bed,” she cajoled, kissing his neck and stroking his chest again.

“I have to be home by six,” Stannis protested weakly, wanting to go back to bed very much.

“Why?”

“I usually am.”

“So?”

“Selyse might ask questions if I change my routine.”

“Tell her you were helping a friend,” Sansa suggested with a shrug.

“I - I… er,” Stannis didn’t really know how to argue with a beautiful naked girl. Especially while said girl was petting and kissing him.

“Please?”

Stannis stood up and and walked straight back to the bedroom, thinking that the way she pleaded and batted her eyelashes at him should really not be allowed. 

It just wasn’t _fair._

***

_Homewrecker._

Sansa stared at herself in the bathroom mirror of her apartment and thought the word over and over again. She had seduced a married man and now he was talking about getting a divorce. She knew she ought to feel ashamed of herself, but the weeks since that first time in Robert’s penthouse had been some of the best in her life. When the nude photos leaked she had barely been bothered as she had been too busy wondering if she’d be able to convince Stannis to see her one more time. And then one more time after that…

She always managed to convince him.

She had given interviews and explained how the photos were artistic and that she had nothing to be ashamed of, thinking to herself that the reporters would probably _drool_ if they caught a whiff of the _real_ scandal she was involved in.

But she and Stannis were clever and subtle. They both had too much at stake to be careless, and neither one of them wanted to end up plastered over every news and gossip site on the Internet.

Sansa knew that was what would eventually happen if Stannis got a divorce and they made their relationship public. She’d be called a homewrecker and Stannis would probably get called a cradle robber or something ridiculous like that.

It was hard to face the reality of it, but Sansa had to. Her career was on the line.

The divorce was the right thing for Stannis, she knew, but she didn’t know if she wanted a serious relationship with him yet. A serious, _public_ relationship. After all, she still didn’t really know him that well. All she knew was that they were _very_ compatible in bed, and that Stannis was miserable most of the time when he was not with her.

Was that any kind of foundation to build a real relationship on?

Her phone rang, the screen informing her that it was Stannis on the other end.

Sansa left the bathroom wearing a towel and not much else, answering the phone with a flirtatious “hey, there,” and walking to her unmade bed to sit down.

“I’ve spoken to a lawyer,” Stannis said, going straight to the point as he always did.

“yeah?”

“I’m having the papers drawn up. This is going to happen.”

“I’m happy for you,” Sansa said genuinely, smiling even though he wouldn’t be able to see.

“I wanted to thank you,” Stannis said a little awkwardly, “I doubt I would have found the wherewithal to go through with this if it hadn’t been for you.”

“You’re welcome?” Sansa said a little uncertainly. Was it a good thing when one was the reason someone was getting a divorce?

“I should have done this a long time ago,” Stannis sighed, and Sansa could tell that he was rubbing his face. She could hear the sound of his hand moving against his stubble.

“Are you going to celebrate?” Sansa asked, not sure what else to say.

“Perhaps when Selyse has signed,” Stannis said with a mirthless laugh that sounded more like a scoff, “right now I need to get back to the office.”

“Oh, of course.” Sansa glanced at her alarm clock and saw that it was two in the afternoon.

“I just wanted to let you know,” Stannis said quickly before hesitating and creating an awkward silence. “I also wanted to make sure you knew that I don’t expect anything,” he finally continued, his voice a little more hoarse.

“Expect anything?” Sansa was confused.

“I don’t expect you to be more to me or do more than you already do,” he blurted out in a rush, audibly uncomfortable.

“Oh,” Sansa breathed, her eyes widening.

“I’m getting this divorce because my marriage is miserable and because you helped me see exactly _how miserable_ it was making me,” Stannis went on, still sounding ill at ease and as if he were gritting his teeth to help himself get through the conversation, “I don’t expect anything between us to change if you don’t want it to.”

“Okay,” Sansa said softly, “I understand.”

“We can talk about all this properly later,” Stannis said brusquely, “I really must be going.”

“Yes, of course,” Sansa nodded even though he wouldn’t be able to see that any more than he would have been able to see her smile before.

“See you soon.”

“Yeah, bye.”

 

Sansa dropped her phone on the bed and got up to put on her body lotion.

It was odd, but hearing Stannis promise that he did not expect anything to change between them made her want things to change. 

Not right away, perhaps, but in time.

 

**The end.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it. ♥


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